The Serf and the Soldier

by Holly Law

  After a moment or two of searching, she saw him. He had been thrown from the horse in the fall and was in a situation that made her pause. When the soldier had fallen into the river, he had the bad fortune to fall into a mess of broken tree limbs. Most of his body was free of the branches, but one of his legs was lodged in the branches. The soldier was forced face first into the swiftly moving water. She could see him struggling to lift his head above the water to breathe, but every time the water forced him back down before he could achieve his desperate goal. Elara hesitated briefly before she quickly made her way over to the soldier.

  She jumped into the water and forced the soldier's shoulders up above the water in a painful arc. His head broke the surface and he gasped for air. She pulled his helmet off to remove some of the weight that threatened to send him back under. She could make out little of his face beyond his raven black hair. “My leg!” he gasped in desperation. “Please! Help me!”

  “I will,” Elara told him over the rush of water. “But catch your breath first. I can't hold you like this and work on your leg at the same time.”

  “Thank you,” the soldier said, gasping for air.

  “Just no threatening or taking me prisoner after this, okay?”

  “Agreed.”

  “You ready to hold your breath for a bit?”

  “Yes.” The soldier took a deep breath and Elara let go of him. She went to his leg quickly and started pulling at the branches. It gave way a bit and he slipped forward. Then she saw that one of the straps on his leg armor had caught on a branch. She tugged at it, but it wouldn't come free. She tried for several more moments before she once more pulled his head out of the water. He took several deep breaths.

  “Any luck?” he asked her as he took deep breaths.

  “Some. How do I undo the strap on your leg? It's stuck on a branch.”

  “Don't bother untying it. There is a dagger at my waist. Just cut the strap. I'll get it replaced.” The soldier reached to his waist and pulled out the blade. The long blade glimmered in the light. “Be careful with that. Don't cut me or yourself for that matter.”

  “I won't,” Elara promised as she took the blade. “Take a deep breath.” The soldier took a deep breath and she let him go again. She went to the strap and carefully sawed through it. She nicked him only lightly, but the straps came off. The current pulled him free from the mess of branches instantly.

  The soldier was up a moment later. He crawled to the river bank and sat there breathing deeply for several moments. Elara watched him tensely as he regained his breath. She hoped he would keep his promise. Finally, he had recovered enough of his air that he looked at her.

  Elara found he was a man in his mid-twenties. He had short, black hair cut in a foreign style. His skin was tanned and she had heard that Corscan skin was naturally that shade. His eyes had an odd slant to them that she had not seen before and were a very dark shade of brown. His face was a handsome one, but most definitely foreign. She could not read his expression as he regarded her for a long moment.

  “Thank you,” he said simply. He stood cautiously and tried to take a hesitant step. He grimaced visibly and glanced around. “Could I impose on you to give me a hand to my horse? My leg does not seem to be cooperating.”

  “That would depend on if you mean to keep your word or not,” Elara said warily.

  He cocked his head at her and looked at her as if she were the oddest thing he had ever seen. “I am not accustomed to my word being questioned. I am in the habit of keeping it and intend to do so,” he told her with a slight frown on his face. Elara thought his accent strange but pleasant. It was slightly more lyrical than she was accustomed to and she almost couldn’t understand some of his words.

  Elara walked over to him and returned the dagger to him. He examined the blade briefly, cleaned it off on the padded cloth he wore before he sheathed it. She offered him the support he had asked for. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she helped him limp over to his horse.

  “I am Corden by the way,” he introduced himself as his eyes concentrated on the horse some distance away still.

  “Elara,” she told him simply.

  “For future situations, grabbing the reins as you did is an unwise decision. You could have killed all of us,” Corden informed her. He looked across the river to Lady Elisa. “Is the lady alright?”

  “I don't know. You looked in a bit more desperate of need.”

  “I'm surprised you helped me. You had every right to wish me dead.”

  “Perhaps, but I would have a hard time letting anyone drown.”

  “That says much for you, Elara. Again, you have my gratitude.” He inclined his head to her politely.

  He put a hand to the side of his horse and examined it briefly. “I think he fared better in the fall than I did. Old boy is lucky. He may yet get a chance to retire into a nice pasture.”

  Elara ignored him and walked over to where Lady Elisa was kneeling beside her dead horse. She was crying and was even more of a mess on closer inspection. Her hair was completely down and her fine clothes torn and muddy. The haughty composure that normally marked her face was missing.

  “Are you alright?” Elara asked the weeping lady.

  “How can I be alright? I'm a complete mess! I've never been so filthy in my whole life!” Lady Elisa sobbed. “And my favorite horse is dead.” Lady Elisa glared at her in outrage.

  “But no broken bones or anything?” Elara insisted.

  “No, but my clothes…”

  “Elara,” the soldier's voice came sharply from behind her. “I think you should be more concerned about yourself than the lady.” She heard his feet crunch onto the stone behind her.

  Elara turned to look at him confused. “What are you…?” she began and suddenly felt woozy.

  Elara felt very weak when she woke and it took her a bit to realize she was waking up. She didn't understand what had happened. She didn't remember falling asleep. She just knew that every inch of her ached. She felt something wrapped tightly around one of her legs and there was something almost painfully tight wrapped around her middle. So caught up in those odd sensations was she, that she didn't even notice the familiar crackling sound of a fire or the feeling of being wrapped in a warm, dry cloak.

  “Useless, woman, can't you do anything useful?” she heard a man ask disdainfully. “I asked you to find firewood. That isn't a difficult task.”

  “I am no serf,” she heard Lady Elisa sniff. “If you want firewood wake the serf or find it yourself.”

  “Elara is injured and for that matter so am I,” the man said in the same tone. “Now find some firewood.”

  Elara puzzled over the man's voice for several long moments before she remembered what had happened. It was the Corscan soldier whose life she had saved. She opened her eyes slowly. She found she was lying on the river bank and a fire was not too far away. Lady Elisa was sitting with her nose in the air looking defiant. The soldier was sitting by the fire looking at the lady coldly. His armor had been removed and he instead wore dark colored pants and a greenish top that was embroidered with fancy swirling designs. His demeanor was every bit as arrogant as Lady Elisa's but there was something very commanding about his presence.

  “I am no serf,” Lady Elisa repeated. “And I don't see why you are still here. Your presence is not wanted, Corscan.”

  “I am not going to leave the girl here with you alone. You would not know how to care for her. Your incompetence at basic survival skills has already reassured me of that.”

  “I don't see why you care about the serf. Her life is not worth much.”

  “You are her lady! It is your duty to protect and care for her when she cannot do so herself. That is part of the bonding oath if I am not mistaken.”

  “I wouldn't know. She is my father's serf, not mine.”

  “Then I'm amazed she has shown you such loyalty. I haven't seen that you deserve it.”

  “Who are you to lecture me on how to treat serf
s? You are a soldier nothing more.”

  “Your ignorance of Corsca astounds me.”

  Lady Elisa looked at him oddly then. “You're not common?”

  “What rank I do or do not have is no business of yours.”

  “Why would a lord be a soldier?”

  “It is very common in Corsca. Nearly every lord or person of significant rank spends time as a soldier.”

  “Curious.”

  “Gather some wood or the three of us will be very cold this night.”

  “I won't.”

  “Stubborn woman!”

  Elara sat up slowly then and both looked at her. The Corscan's face softened slightly, but not much. “How are you feeling?” he asked her politely.

  “Sore and a bit confused. I don't remember falling asleep.”

  “You fainted. You were injured, but were so caught up in events you had not noticed. Your leg was badly cut, as was your back. You will find both wounds wrapped. They should remain that way for the time being. I have some field rations if you wish something to eat. I think you will need to recover some blood.”

  “You never offered me any food!” Lady Elisa objected. The Corscan didn't even look at her.

  “She won't get firewood?”

  “The lady seems to think it beneath her,” the Corscan informed her, giving Lady Elisa an irritated glance. Elara slowly climbed to her feet and the Corscan watched her. Concern briefly flickered across his features. She slowly took steps towards a wooded area. “What are you doing? You should be resting.”

  “Gathering firewood,” Elara told him simply.

  “Don't. Sit. This is not good for you.”

  “Well, I want to be warm tonight and since both of you are nobility and don't know how to survive, the task of finding wood falls to me.”

  “I am injured, as are you. We both need to rest. Your lady can gather the wood.”

  “She won't. Even if she did she would not do it well enough to be of any use. Hurt as I am, I can do more good than she is whole.”

  “How dare you!” Lady Elisa gasped, sounding shocked at the obvious suggestion. A moment later, Lady Elisa was on her feet gathering wood as fast as she could clearly trying to outdo Elara. Elara continued for a few seconds before she walked back over to the camp fire and sat down. Lady Elisa was so bent on being better than a serf that she did not notice when Elara left her on her own.

  The Corscan looked a bit amused and inclined his head in admiration to Elara. Lady Elisa carried over several heavy handfuls of wood and the Corscan carefully built up the fire before he limped over to Elara and sat beside her. He silently offered her some of his soldier’s rations. Elara was too hungry to refuse.

  She shoved the dried meat and rock solid bread into her mouth. He watched her silently, his eyes studying her face as she ate. She found it uncomfortable.

  “It was Corden, right?” Elara asked him as she shoved another piece of bread into her mouth.

  “Yes, you remember correctly,” he told her, giving her a polite nod.

  “Thank you,” she told him, awkwardly and swallowed the dry bread.

  “You are still hungry?” he asked, his eyes assessing her face.

  “I’ll be alright.”

  “I have more, I am willing to share.” Before Elara could object he was limping back to his horse. He rummaged through the bags before he pulled a leather pouch. He carried it to her. He dropped it in her lap with a smile. “Eat your fill.”

  Elara looked at Corden confused. She didn’t understand his generosity. He only smiled at her confusion. Inside the bag was more food. There was even a small chunk of soft cheese partially covered in a red waxy material.

  “Won’t you need this?” Elara asked him, still not understanding his generosity.

  “I can get more when I return to camp—and that is not far from here.”

  “Yes, but won’t they be angry with you for giving out food?”

  Corden looked at her for a long moment. There was something weighing in his eyes. “I was the ranking officer in the camp, it is my choice to make,” he said eventually.

  “What rank did you possess?” Lady Elisa demanded from nearby. Elara had nearly forgotten her she had been so hungry.

  Corden looked at Lady Elisa coldly. “You are far too preoccupied by rank, my lady.” He looked back at Elara and gave her a friendly smile. “Eat more, I know you’re hungry.”

  Elara did eat more, but more slowly than before. Corden took a few pieces of meat from the bag and munched on them hungrily. “If you’re so high ranking won’t those soldiers be concerned that you are not back at camp already?

  “I sent a message back to my camp while you were unconscious,” Corden explained readily. “They do not expect me back this night, and I explained my intent to escort you home before returning to my duties. I will not be missed.”

  Elara was surprised by that pronouncement. She hadn't known he had intended to see her home. “But why? Don't you have anything better to do? Won't you be in trouble?”

  Corden laughed. “I have a great many things it would be better for me to do, but my honor demands I see you home. I won't be in any trouble for doing what honor and duty demand of me. You saved my life, Elara. I am in your debt. I would see you home, if you will permit me.”

  “I don't know how to get home from here,” Elara confessed. “I don't think Lady Elisa does either.”

  “Well, I have a map. In the morning, you can tell me where you're from and I will find it on the map. I will get you home.”

  “What's a map?”

  “It's a picture with a drawing of the land on it. It shows where places are and how to get there.”

  “That sounds useful.”

  “Very useful,” Corden agreed.

  “Do you think I could get back up to the road from here?” Elara asked looking up the cliff.

  “It's possible, but it would take some climbing,” Corden said sounding dubious. “Why would you want to go back up there? You will see nothing you like. There is not enough dirt in the area for us to have buried the bodies, as is your custom. It would not be pleasant.”

  “I know,” Elara said simply and when Corden still looked at her she continued. “I know what happened to my father, but I want to know about my brother.”

  Corden's face softened then and the compassion she saw there was complete. “I heard you call for your father, but I hadn't thought you would have other family up there. I'm sorry, Elara, but your brother is most definitely dead. We do not leave our enemies alive—it is not our custom. You will not find anything you wish to see.”

  “But I have to know to tell my mother. I have to know.”

  “Do you have any family left besides your mother?”

  “No.”

  Corden sighed. “Then trying to take you truly was a mercy. I thought it might have been and now I know.”

  “I am not interested in your kind of mercy,” Elara told him a bit more coldly than she intended. His words were a sharp reminder of what almost had been—that she had nearly been his wife.

  “I meant you no harm, Elara, and I did not make the decision to take you lightly. It was as binding a decision for me as it would have been for you. No soldier makes that choice lightly. We are very much aware that an unhappy wife will be an unpleasant thing for more than the woman involved.”

  “No woman would be happy being forced to marry a man she did not know.”

  “It is a mercy and the only honorable mercy that can be shown during battle. We do not take prisoners unless it is the aim of an attack to take a specific prisoner. There was no other way you could have walked away from that battle unharmed and alive.”

  “Then perhaps you Corscans are too cruel and unfeeling to those who want nothing to do with your wars and battles.” Elara thought that comment would have offended him, but instead he shook his head looking amused. There was no anger there.

  “You do not understand us and that shows clearly to me. It is very rare when we
attack in such a way that we would be risking large populations that are not military in nature. We do take towns, but we have such aims when we do that those in the population who do not resist us remain unbothered. It is very rare indeed when we find a need to attack a serf village. Women being caught up in battles is…unusually. Truthfully, it happens more on quick raids that are poorly organized. Women being taken for brides during battle are rare.”

  “And yet you Corscans are so well known for it.”

  “Are we?” Corden looked at her thoughtfully. “I hadn't realized we had developed that as part of our reputation. How curious. It is a rarity, you must know. For it can only be done once. We are not like the Gornites to the north who take multiple wives. You would have been the only woman I could spare in battle for my whole life.”

  Nothing was said for several very long minutes. Lady Elisa was still so intent on gathering wood she had not noticed them watching her. Finally, Elara asked, “Why did you try to take me?”

  “Because I heard you cry out. I heard you call for your father and saw you trying to reach for him as he fell,” Corden told her softly. “I saw your face and the pain there. Because the choice is ever before us we are taught to read character and situation well. A girl travelling with her father under such circumstances is rarely in a stable family situation. I assumed your family faced some sort of desperate circumstance. That you stayed so near him spoke of your trust for him and his love for you. Then I saw you trying to move to your lady to help her or at least be with her. That spoke much of you. But I had decided just on hearing your cry that I would take you. I thought you would need someone to care for you and that it would be very sad if your life ended after enduring such a hardship that would make you travel through this area while your country is at war.” Corden gave her a broad grin then that flashed white teeth. “That and you do have a very pretty face.”

  “I was not so desperate, you know,” Elara told him, trying not to think of her father. She could not think of that yet. “My father and brother were ordered to serve as extra guards for the trip because our lord did not have enough. They were only farmers who would have gladly stayed on the farm. I came along because the lord needed Lady Elisa to have a maid. She seems to have a difficult time keeping them. I was handy. That was all.”